Remedial Lessons
by LadyShinigami12
Summary: NOT A ROMANCE! Ronald Knox has flunked his exams. For the 6th time. Now, he must train under a Mr. William T. Spears and his eccentric associate Grell Sutcliffe. Can he survive the training, let alone pass his exam? some minor Eric/Alan on the sidelines.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi! I know I've been gone for like, forever (At least that's how it felt) But I have TONS of new stuff that I've been working on, mostly Kuro shinigami stuff like this, because, I am minorly obsessed. So, for anyone who has suscribed to me as an author...I am so sorry. I am about to bombard your inbox. If it makes you feel better, I have exams starting tomorrow so I won't be able to update as much!

As for this story, I just love Ronald so much. I wanted to give him a little bit of love, although I end up abusing him a lot more than I meant. I hope I didn't completely destroy his character.

If I owned Kuroshitsuji, it would be called The Shinigami Show. Gosh, that would be awesome. Now, on with the story!

Ronald drummed his fingers on his desk. He hadn't realized he had come to the class so early, or he would have played a last round of poker with his friends in the Academy hall.

He looked at his notification once more, even though he'd memorized it for the billionth time. _Mr. Knox, for failing to achieve a B average on your final exams, we unfortunately cannot give you the final reaper test. If you have any desire to continue your career as a reaper, you are hereby required to attend remedial lessons, and afterwards make up the final exams. _He had received this exact same letter 6 previous times, and failed the exam each time. He was getting better, sort of. He wasn't getting straight F's, like the first test.

"Ronald?" Ronald looked up, to see the face of Alan, one of the people in his dorm at the Academy. Alan was extremely shy, so he and Ronald didn't hang out much, but it was good enough to see a friendly face.

"Alan! C'mon, sit next to me, what are you doing here?" Alan complied and sat next to Ronald.

"Same as you, remedial lessons." Ronald frowned. Alan was a year younger than him, and should have been a class below him if Ronald hadn't failed so many times. However, even Ronald knew Alan was supposed to be some kind of genius. Seeing the confused look on Ronald's face, Alan explained, "I flunked the practical portion of the test, all right?"

Ronald nodded. "Well, there are worse things." He told the younger man. _Like flunking EVERY portion of the test_ he thought to himself.

"So, how do these things work?" Alan asked as other flunkies began filing into the classroom.

"Well, we each get assigned a mentor to help us with our specific area of study. They'll tutor you, make sure you're up to par, and then send you in for your exams." Although Ronald had taken the test 6 times now, he had had 9 different mentors, as 3 of his mentors had dropped him even before he had taken the final test.

Alan sat on the edge of his seat, eagerly awaiting his mentor assignment. Ronald watched him for a few minutes, amused. He was sure a flunking grade was devastating to someone like Alan. It always was the first time. He himself had become numb to the pain of failure.

Finally, a tall reaper with a large handle bar mustache came in. He began the general routine about how they needed to work extra hard, and that their failure would not be accepted in the reaper division, etc. etc. Ronald had heard it all before.

Then, he began handing out mentor assignments. It was in alphabetical order, so Alan got his before Ronald. The card read 'Eric Slingby.'

"Oh, you're lucky, he's one of the good ones," Ronald said, "Most of these guys have their scythes sticking out of their asses. He's at least a bit of fun." Eric had been Ronald's fourth mentor. He hadn't worked out either, but at least Ronald had gotten a friend and drinking buddy out of the arrangement.

Alan bit his lip, "I'm not exactly a fun person."

"You'll be fine." Ronald reassured him.

Finally, the mustachioed reaper made his way back to Ronald. Handing him his card, Ronald read the name quickly. "William T. Spears," he read aloud to Alan. "I wonder who he is?"

Most of the mentors came down to gather their pupils. Ronald saw Eric come down and waved him closer. "Yo, Eric, yours is over here!" Alan shuffled nervously.

"Don't tell me they assigned me to you again, Ronald," Eric said shaking his head, but he did have a smile on his face.

"Nah, you're stuck with this guy right here." Ronald said, putting his arm Alan. Alan refused to look in the taller man's eyes. Ronald thought for a split second that he saw Alan blush but he ignored it.

"H-hello, Mr. Slingby, sir." He muttered. Eric smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Loosen up, kid." Eric said, punching him on the arm. "What's your name?"

"Alan Humphries, sir."

"All right, Alan, we'll get goin' then. Hey, maybe the three of us can hook up for drinks later." He nodded at Ronald.

"I'm game!" Ronald said.

"Great, who'd you get, anyway?" Eric asked Ronald. "Maybe I can get to them before Bentley does, huh?" Mr. Bentley was Ronald's 2nd mentor, for about 2 days. He hated Ronald with a passion and had poisoned mentors 5, 6, and 8 against him.

"I don't know him personally, someone named William T. Spears?" Eric grabbed the card from Ronald.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Eric said, mostly to himself, "I didn't think he took pupils."

"You know him?" Ronald asked.

"Know him!" Eric said incredulously. "He's just the Dispatch Manager!"

Ronald looked stunned at his friend for a moment, wondering if this was a joke. "What? Why on earth would the Dispatch Manager take in me as a pupil?" Eric shrugged. "Well?" Ronald asked desperately, "which one is he?" Ronald motioned to all the other mentors around the room.

Eric took a brief scan of the room. "I don't see him. He must be—"

"Mr. Knox?" the mustachioed reaper was back, and for half a moment, Ronald wondered if this was Mr. Spears. He realized immediately that was ridiculous, but he also realized even though he'd taken the remedial class 6 times now, he never found out this man's name.

"Y-yes?" Ronald asked. The man shoved a stack of papers in his arms.

"Mr. Spears is preoccupied at the moment and was unable to meet you. However, he requests that you go and meet him in his office. He left this set of directions." The man pointed to the paper on top.

"'Kay." Ronald said. "Hey Eric, what's this Spears-guy like?"

Eric was about to answer when the other reaper said, "Mr. Spears instructed that you are to leave _now_, Mr. Knox."

"All right, all right, I'm going!" He gave the directions sheet a last look and walked away. As he reached the doorframe, he looked back at Alan and Eric, but they had already forgotten him. Turning back he walked down the silent hallways.

He finally found the door, but was surprised to here voices inside.

"Sutcliffe, sit down!"

"I AM sitting, Will darling!"

"On a chair, please."

"Ah…but that's no fun."

"Honestly, the new pupil will be here any minute and you—"

"I won't cause any problems, Will, I promise!"

Ronald, guessing this was his cue, (and insanely curious about this 'Sutcliffe' with a weird sounding voice,) knocked on the door.

"Enter." The first voice said.

Ronald did as he was told. Inside, he found a tall, dark haired man sitting at his desk and typing away incessantly. However, his eyes were instantly drawn to the other—man? He was sitting on the edge of the desk, waving his legs in the air, with long, blood red hair that came to his hips and red high heels and red bow. (A/N this is before the Madam Red thing, so no red coat.)

"You must be Mr. Knox," The dark-haired man said, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Umm, yes." Ronald said, wondering why William didn't even bother looking at him. The other man was scanning him up and down, and smiling as though he wanted to eat Ronald. He had to admit he was a little freaked out.

"My name is William T. Spears. This is my associate Grell Sutcliffe. As the dispatch manager, my duties do not allow me extraordinary amounts of free time with which to tutor you, so Mr. Sutcliffe will help with some of your studies."

"Ohhh, don't worry!" Grell suddenly leaped off the desk and took Ronald by the hands, "We're going to be the best of friends! Now, what's your name, darling?"

Ronald stammered for a moment in shock before he got out the word "R-Ronald."

"Mr. Sutcliffe, please stop scaring him." Spears said.

"I am not scaring him!" Grell went back to his place on top of Will's desk. "Oh, Will, the both of us mentoring him, showing him the works! He's like our love-child!"

Ronald backed away instinctively and looked panicked to Mr. Spears, although he seemed to take Grell's statement completely in stride.

"I would ask that you not make such ridiculous statements, Sutcliffe. Some people might actually think you were serious. Anyway, Mr. Knox, your studies will begin immediately." Ronald's shoulders immediately dropped. He knew what that meant. Books, and many of them. He was sure he had read all of them during his first remedial course, but that didn't stop every other one of his mentors from forcing him to read them again. "Sutcliffe, you're sitting on it."

"Oh! Sorry!" Grell stood up again and pulled out a pile of paperwork that was underneath. He handed the stack to Ronald who looked at them quizzically.

"Mr. Knox, you will fill these out and hand them in to me by the end of the day. Should you require any assistance, feel free to ask Mr. Sutcliffe or myself. You may take the free desk across the hall next to Mr. Sutcliffe. Dismissed."

Ronald was thoroughly shocked. This was a death report! After knowing him for all of two minutes, Mr. Spears entrusted him with a death report? He and Grell left the office and Grell showed him his desk. "Umm, Mr. Sutcliffe?" Ronald asked sitting down.

"Hmm?"

"Is this a real death report?"

Grell gave him a sarcastic look, "No, Mr. Spears took time out of his busy schedule to write up a fake report and forge a cinematic record for you to check on just for you to fill out that report. Of course it's real!" Grell gave him a light tap on the arm.

"Oh." Ronald smiled to himself as he began to read the report. Mr. Spears must really trust him to give him a real death report. Maybe—he thought—maybe this mentor would be different.

"Mr. Knox, this paperwork is of horribly poor quality. Please fill it out again."

"But that will take all night!"

Finally, Mr. Spears looked directly into Ronald's eyes. The look told Ronald quite clearly that he did not care.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, I know I said I had a lot to give, and then I pretty much disappeared for a couple of weeks. that is because exams were HELL! and then preparing to graduate, and, well, the point is it's over now, so I should be able to do more.

I actually have most of the story written out, it just needs, you know, an ending. and I have to fix one of the chapters...but here is something to keep you satisfied until then! Read. love. Review. all that good stuff.

"He hates me." Ronald told Eric and Alan at the tavern that night. He had finally managed to fill the reports to the "bare minimum of satisfaction." He had come to drown his sorrows in alcohol, and thankfully caught Alan and Eric before they left. It was still very late, though, and the bartender kept eyeing them as if he was telling them to leave. Right now, he had his head pressed against the bar, waiting for another beer.

"He doesn't hate you." Eric reassured him.

"If he did, he wouldn't have entrusted those reports to you." Alan said.

"He hates me," Ronald repeated, turning his head to the side, "You could see it in his eyes. He didn't even bother tutoring, he just kept telling me I failed."

"Did he actually say that?"

"Well, no, but he said my work was of 'horribly poor quality.'"

"It was just your first day, Ronald," Eric said, "It'll get better."

"Whatever." Ronald said, taking a huge swig of beer. "How was your day?"

There was a momentary pause as he was sure Eric and Alan were exchanging glances. "Pretty good." Eric said, "Alan here is making excellent progress."

"Oh, please." Alan said, glaring at his mentor. He then confided in Ronald, "He beat me to a bloody pulp."

"You recovered!" Eric said in his defense, "besides, like I said to Ronald, it's your first day, you'll improve."

Ronald looked up from his beer at Alan. For someone who could barely get the man's name out this morning he was being outright friendly. Then again, Ronald wasn't sure exactly how much alcohol Eric had given him, though Alan's bright red face might be an indicator.

"Yeah." Ronald said, encouragingly, "Eric even managed to get my practical test scores up. It's the other portions that have gotten me now."

"Well, I can help you, if you'd like." Alan said, "Study and stuff I mean."

Ronald was pretty sure studying would not help him in his case, but it's not as if he could say no. "Sure, that'd be great. If Mr. Spears ever lets me out at a decent hour."

"I can feel it Ronald." Eric said, grinning, "This is going to be the test. I just know you're going to pass this one.

"Keep dreaming, Slingby." Ronald said.

"Y-you don't think you're going to pass?" Alan asked, shocked.

"I dunno. I'm not really feeling Spear's style, he's too—too like all my other mentors. Doubt he'll make much of a dent in my academic success."

"Hey!" Eric said, "I'm not like Spears!"

"You're the exception," Ronald reassured Eric. Eric rolled his eyes and messed up Ronald's hair. "Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter too much. After 6 failed tests, a seventh isn't going to do much harm."

"C'mon, Ronald, you can at least try!" Eric said, raising an eyebrow at his former pupil.

"I ALWAYS try, Eric. I just don't, you know, succeed."

"Uh-huh. Always, huh? Then how come when I was your mentor I caught you drinking and partying instead of studying about 10 times?"

"It was not 10!" Ronald said, "And I told you, studying doesn't work for me."

"It's the only way I function." Alan said, "That's why I failed so badly on the practical."

"Well, different strokes, I guess." Ronald gulped down the rest of his beer. "Well, I guess I better go hit the sack. I've got the feeling Spears will want to work me to the bone tomorrow."

"All right, we better get going too. Hard day of work tomorrow!" He slapped Alan on the back as they all got up to leave. Ronald could only hope the next day would be better.

It wasn't. "Knox, please go over this so-called paperwork you did yesterday and highlight all of the errors you made. Feel free to use any references you feel necessary including Mr. Sutcliffe and myself."

This was ridiculous. He had no idea what he did wrong, except for the fact that it certainly wasn't right. "You need any help?" Grell asked after Ronald stared at the paper for over five minutes.

"I got it." Ronald said, finally lifting his pen and scratching out his own words.

Grell smirked in amusement and stood up. "I'll be in Will's office if you need me."

Ronald struggled over the paperwork for hours. More often than not he crossed out words for no reason other than to cross out words. Was this Spears' idea of tutoring? Because if it was, Ronald guessed he really would be taking a 7th remedial class.

He was surprised to find this idea really bothered him. He would never say this out loud, but he really did want to be a reaper, he just didn't care for the tests. This personal philosophy was what drove his former mentors insane. He knew it was lazy, but that was just his style.

Grell finally returned, and Ronald wondered if his smile was permanently plastered onto his face. "Will says you've done enough paperwork for today." Ronald blinked at him in surprise. It was only noon, and he couldn't believe that someone like Spears would let him out after only a half-day's work. "Instead," Grell continued, "You and I are going to work on the practical portion of the test!"

Ronald blinked again, but realizing Grell was waiting for him, stood up and followed him down to the training yard. "B-but Mr. Sutcliffe, I don't really need more practice on the Practical. I got a 'B' on my last final exam."

"Well, _I_ got a triple A. So you'll have to do as well as me."

Ronald looked at him in surprise. He would never have expected Grell to get high ranks, he seemed to hate work almost as much as Ronald. "What do I have to do?" Ronald asked.

Grell gave him a sideways smile, "Quite simple, darling. You have to try and beat me." Ronald swallowed. The idea of trying to defeat a Triple A student was broaching on the impossible. "Stop worrying, darling. I'll go easy on you. At first." Ronald didn't know Grell well enough to tell if that was a joke or a threat.

Either way, Grell beat him until he was black and blue. "C'mon, Ronnie! Move your feet!"

Ronald found it difficult to move his feet considering he was thrown up against the wall. Slowly, he peeled himself off the brick and raised his scythe to face the red-head again. At the beginning of the training session, Ronald thought Grell was enjoying this too much. He now knew the man was an unashamed sadist.

"Grip the scythe tighter! C'mon, use your wrist! Stop using those big arm movements! Faster! Faster!"

Ronald had never really wondered what a combination of blood and brick tasted like. Well, now he knew.

Every time Grell threw him down, though, Ronald could at least get back up, even if he was a little worse for wear for it. He couldn't believe how strong Grell was, Ronald could at least hold his own a little against Eric. He had even managed to land a blow or two. But with Grell—nothing.

Spitting out blood and panting for breath he raised the stupid little scythe once more. It shook violently. However it took him a second to realize Grell was not looking at him, but off to the side. Taking advantage, he charged the red reaper. He was an inch away from him, when he was knocked to the side.

Ronald sat up, and took a moment to regain his breath. He looked up to see what Grell had been staring at. Off to the side of the training yard, Mr. Spears was staring at none other than Ronald Knox intently, a slight frown on his face.

Ronald was just starting to get up when Mr. Spears stepped forward. "That's enough training for today, Mr. Knox." Not needing any more incentive than that, Ronald fell back onto the floor, spread eagle, gasping for air. Grell picked up his scythe and hung both training scythe's back on the wall.

The red head then knelt next to Ronald's head. "You really weren't all that bad you know. I'm just extremely good." Ronald glared at him, unable to give an appropriate response. Grell gave a soft laugh and stood up.

Mr. Spears finally approached, and Grell tried quickly to put his hands around his boss's shoulders, but was easily deflected. Ronald wondered how fast Mr. Spears must be if he was capable of getting around Grell.

He looked down at the panting blonde with no sign of sympathy. "From now on," he said, "You will practice with Mr. Sutcliffe every afternoon, unless he has an assignment. Afterwards you will continue the paperwork for that day. Today, however, you are excused to go home and treat your injuries. I would recommend generous amounts of ice." Grell gave a small giggle.

They had already left before Ronald had regained enough energy to stand up. He first intended to return to the bar, wait for Eric and Alan to finish training, and drink his sorrows away again. However, as soon as he stepped out the doors, he decided he needed a nap first.

Returning to his dorm room, he decided he'd sleep for just a few minutes, and then go for a drink. Rubbing his sore muscles, he lay down on his bed.

He opened his eyes after what felt like a second later. However when he looked at the clock—"Shit I'm going to be late for work!"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Me: Brain, write. Brain: But...Summer! Me: No, brain, write. Eventually I got this down. Enjoy!

Ronald was slowly getting into a steady rhythm. Mr. Spears said his paperwork was getting 'mildly better.' He still wasn't able to land a blow on Mr. Sutcliffe, but at least he wasn't as tired after each session, although he suspected Mr. Sutcliffe was going easy on him. Friday and Saturday nights were spent at parties, or, if there was none, drinking with Eric and Alan. Saturday afternoons, however, Alan had taken on tutoring responsibilities for Ronald.

"All right, so sundry expenses must be paid at the end of the month." Ronald recited, his eyes closed so he couldn't see the answer on the page.

"Which is…" Alan said, his own textbook in hand.

"The second rule?"

"Third." Alan corrected.

Ronald looked down on the page and saw that Alan was indeed correct. He grumbled in frustration. "Hey, you were close this time!" Alan encouraged him.

"The first rule shouldn't be there anyway," Ronald said, throwing his book on the bed, "I mean, 'we must wear glasses.' I mean it's not like we have a choice. We're all bloody blind without these things on."

Alan gave a half smile. "C'mon, Ronald, there aren't that many rules to memorize. Although," Alan looked over at Ronald's textbook, "Did you add one?"

Ronald looked over with a frown. Alan was motioning to a line in the textbook that was added in red ink. "Oh, no, that wasn't me. See, I lost my textbook so Mr. Sutcliffe lent me his old one. He wrote stuff all over that thing. I had to tear out some of the pages. Some of his drawings are—detailed."

"'If you meet a handsome man, you get a paid holiday?'" Alan read out loud, "Wouldn't that be interesting if it was true?"

Ronald shrugged. "Ehh, I can think of better rules. Here, pass that to me." Alan gave him the book and Ronald took out a pen. He began writing at the bottom of the page. "when…the…fixed…time….comes…we…quit…and…go…to…a…group…date." satisfied, he put down his pen.

Alan gave a nervous laugh. "Are you sure Mr. Sutcliffe won't mind you writing in his book?"

"What's he going to use it for? He's already a reaper. Besides, he'd probably agree with the rule."

Alan shook his head. "I've never understood the point of a group date. I mean, I would think the other people would make it awkward."

"Alan, when's the last time you went on a date, group or otherwise?" Ronald asked.

Alan looked away. "n-never," he mumbled.

Ronald turned around to look at him. "Never?" he asked. Alan shook his head. Ronald gave a small frown, and then smiled wickedly. "Well c'mon!" he stood up, "Tonight, we'll get you a date! Eric and I know lots of people who you'd probably—" Ronald stopped talking as soon as he noticed Alan's entire face turned tomato red. "Unless," He said, turning his chair around and sitting backwards, "You've already got someone in mind." He raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

"No. Nothing. No one." He said, his blush spreading to his neck.

"C'mon, spill!" Ronald said, "Who is the lucky guy? Or, is it a girl?" as there were very few girls in the department, it was assumed that most reapers were gay. Ronald considered himself the exception to the rule. He still wasn't sure which side of the fence Alan was on."

"Umm, well not exactly."

"Not exactly? I think gender is usually one or the other. Unless…wait, you don't like Grell Sutcliffe do you?"

"What? No! no, umm," Alan looked at him briefly, but couldn't hold the gaze, "but, he-he is a guy."

"Wait!" Ronald backed off for a moment, "You don't like me—"

"Don't be ridiculous" Alan said, his blush finally diminishing, "It's Eric Slingby, you asshole."

"Eric!" Ronald nearly fell out of his chair, "You—you like Eric, but he's—and you're—It's just too weird."

"I know." Alan said, "It's impossible. We're complete opposites. He's an outgoing partier, and I'm a shy nerd who can't even pass the practical test."

Ronald, "Don't beat yourself up, Alan. You two would—I mean I know you and him—Look, I never thought I'd say this, but can we get back to studying?"

"Yes, why don't we. Now, what's the next rule?"

They were interrupted when the door opened, and none other than Eric Slingby walked in.

"Mr. Slingby." Alan nodded to him, trying to hide the fact that his face was pale white.

"Hey, Eric," Ronald said, also trying to hide his face from Eric, but that was because he was internally laughing his head off.

"Hey, Ronald, Alan. Listen, it's 5:00 already, why don't you guys call the studying done for the night and we'll catch some dinner and then go to a pub? Sound good?"

Alan exchanged a panicked look with Ronald. Suddenly, the young blonde had a marvelous idea. "Sorry man, can't make it tonight. Hot date, you know, with that girl from General Affairs. But you two should definitely go."

Alan's eyes widened in fear. He tried to tell Ronald without words to quit it, but Eric had already said, "That's fine, we'll just have fun without you. C'mon, Alan. Don't worry," he said noticing Alan's face, "We won't do anymore training. Tonight is all about having fun."

As if he was walking to the gallows, Alan stood up and followed Eric out the door, giving Ronald a final glare before closing the door.

Ronald unfortunately didn't have a hot date that night, nor were there any interesting parties going on. He thought about going to a bar and drinking by himself, but that felt kind of pathetic. His textbook seemed to glare at him, telling him to study, but studying on a Saturday night went against his very nature.

He left in search of others in his dorm who might be willing to go out drinking or playing poker or something. There were usually a couple of guys hanging around.

He eventually found a group of guys who he often played poker with hanging in one of the bars. He walked up. "Hey guys."

They all turned to see him, exchanging awkward glances with one another. "Well, don't all greet me at once," Ronald said.

"Hey, Knox." One of them, Edward, said.

"Hi, _Samson._" Ronald said, emphasizing the other man's surname. "Since when did we get to a last-name basis?" They exchanged weird looks again.

"We—um," one of the others said, "We just passed our final exams. We're full reapers now."

Ronald stared at them in shock for a minute. He had a feeling he knew where this was headed. "That's great, congratulations. Here, let me buy you a drink."

He tried to move towards the bar, but the other reapers blocked him. Ronald stared each of them down. "What? You think because you passed your exam you're better than me, or something?"

"Well, generally," a voice said from inside the crowd, a voice that made Ronald want to be sick, "better grades indicate being better." An older reaper pushed through to the front of the crowd, and Ronald recoiled as he recognized Geoffrey Bentley.

"You know," Ronald said, "suddenly, I think I'll be taking my business across the street. This place seems to have an infestation of rats."

"Why do you keep trying Knox? Why don't you just quit? You know you'll never pass that test."

Ronald smiled, "Truthfully, Bentley, you're my inspiration. I figure if a total ass like you can become a reaper, well, maybe I've got a shot."

"You think you're so clever." Bentley scowled at him.

"Well, that tends to happen, when one is actually clever. You wouldn't understand."

"Clever huh? Then why don't you ever pass the test?"

"That's my business not yours, isn't it? You don't see me asking why you're such an arrogant, washed up old loser now do—" he was not able to finish his sentence because Bentley had punched him in the jaw.

Ronald barely flinched before he threw a punch back, his training with Grell finally coming into play. Before he knew it the entire crowd was coming down on him and he was buried in a pile of fists.

"Hey—hey back off, guys!" Ronald knew he should have been happy to hear Eric's voice through the fists and blood, yet it only served to infuriate him more. "I said, BACK THE HELL OFF!" One by one, the assailants were thrown off Ronald.

"Ronald, are you—"

"I'm fine, Alan." Ronald wiped blood off his mouth and flinched away from Alan's helpful hand.

Once Eric was done scaring off the attackers, he leaned down and offered Ronald his arm. "Well, I've gotta say, Ronald, I've never known anyone who can piss off so many people before they even get a drop of liquor."

"Shove off, Eric." Ronald said, refusing Eric's arm and getting up by himself.

"Hey, man, I'm just trying to help—"

"Then why couldn't you help me pass the exam, huh?" Ronald was sure one of the reapers must have bashed in his brains to make him say these things, but at the moment he didn't care, "Why'd you let me fail?"

"Ronald—"

"No, Alan, I got this," Eric said, "Ronald, you know you're one of my closest friends, and I'd give anything to see you made Reaper, but lets face it, you were a lousy pupil."

"Yeah? Did it occur to you that maybe you were just a lousy teacher?"

"Ronald! What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing's gotten into him, Alan," Eric said as he and Ronald stared each other down, "He's just being stupid as always."

Still caught in battle fever from when the others fought him, he punched at Eric's face. Eric caught his arm before he ever made contact.

When Ronald tried to fight through, Eric threw him to the ground. Ronald lifted one hand to his face and realized his nose and lip were bleeding. He was probably developing a large bruise as well.

For once, the bar was silent. Ronald could feel numerous eyes on him. He stayed on the floor for another moment before quietly picking himself up for a second time. Ignoring Alan's last, soft, "Ronald," he left the bar without looking back.

A/N: Yeah, I couldn't help putting some of the musical song in here. And I also wanted to address my own personal belief that the grand majority, if not all, of shinigami are gay (I put Eric and Ronald in the Bi category, though Ronald is a Bi in denial)


	4. Chapter 4

Ronald began heading back to his dorm, but quickly decided he was too agitated. He was disgusted with himself, but with nowhere else to go, he headed to the office. It was a crime to go to work on the weekend, but maybe a bit of paperwork would at least bore him to sleep.

It didn't work. He worked until early in the morning. Strangely enough, he never stopped to take a break. Working allowed him not to think about the newly made reapers or Bentley or Alan or Eric.

He didn't even realize how long he had been working until Grell showed up. "What are you doing here on a Sunday?" he asked, throwing down his bright red office bag.

Ronald looked up and found his head spinning. He had been awake for far too long. "I could ask you the same thing."

Grell smirked. "As Will says, Death does not stop for weekends. Once you become a full reaper, you'll learn to forget the normal five-day week schedule."

Ronald broke a pencil in his hand. Grell frowned at him quizzically. "Rough night?" he asked.

"Couldn't get any sleep," Ronald said.

Grell looked over Ronald's shoulder at the work he had been doing. "You've got a fair amount done here. Tell you what, I'll go hand these in to Will, you take a nap or something."

"Oh, no, Grell, I got it," Ronald said starting to get up, when Grell pushed him back down and took the papers from him.

"Rest. You're not getting out of practical training this afternoon, so you'd better be well rested for it." Grell left with Ronald's paperwork. Not really thinking he'd fall asleep, Ronald put his head on his desk.

The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him awake. "Ronald?"

"Mmm Maria." Ronald said as he picked himself off of his desk.

"Sorry, wrong girl." Grell told him.

Ronald rubbed his eyes and looked down on his desk. It took a minute to realize that for the first time since he had come to this office, his desk was cleared. Grell began speaking again. "Will was really impressed with that paperwork you did last night."

Ronald looked up again. Grell smiled and nodded to tell him it was the truth. "Well, I'm sure he'll find something I did wrong."

Grell shook his head at the younger man. "C'mon, let's go. You up for some practical training?"

Ronald shrugged. He still didn't feel like going home, so he said, "might as well."

He knew the moment he began training he was not on top of his game. He was letting Grell take too many shots. "You seem distracted today." Grell said calmly as he thrust the practice scythe into Ronald's gut.

"Mhmm." Ronald said, refusing to elaborate, but aimed his own scythe at Grells head. The red-head dodged easily.

Grell gave a small smile. "Eric Slingby told me you had an interesting night."

Ronald slipped and dropped his scythe. Grell smirked again and paused, allowing him to pick it back up. "I see I touched nerve."

Ronald tried to charge the elder reaper, when he realized Grell wasn't paying attention to him. Ronald followed his gaze and noticed Will watching him once again. He hadn't come to the training room since Ronald's first round with Grell. And naturally, he had to come when Ronald was possibly doing his worst.

"So, Will," Grell flocked to the dark-haired reaper's side, "how's the newbie doin'?"

Ronald did not look into his mentor's eyes. Mr. Spears hadn't spoken to him once in his entire time training unless he was criticizing him.

Mr. Spears gave a half frown. "You've certainly improved Mr. Knox. You just don't seem to be very…interested."

Ronald frowned at him in turn. "Interested?"

"You seem bored, Mr. Knox. You have the capability, but you're not putting it forward because you don't seem properly motivated." Ronald sulked for a moment. Here came the lecturing again. He braced his ears for the speech of how lazy and incompetent he was.

But the speech never came. Instead, Mr. Spears turned to Grell. "Sutcliff, Go summon your real death scythe."

"My—But, Will, I'll kill him!" Will gave him a look that clearly told him to just do it. Grell rolled his eyes and held out his hand. A giant saw materialized in his hand with a rotating chain. The handle was bright red.

"Whoa!" Ronald said, forgetting that his superiors were right in front of him, "What is that?"

"Just my death scythe!" Grell said, forgetting his caution and admiring his weapon. "Here, look." With a flick of the switch, the blades began rotating with a loud humm. Ronald felt his eyes widen beyond what he thought was possible. It-It was just so cool!

"Yes," Mr. Spears said, "And Mr. Sutcliffe will be using this now when he fights you."

The blood drained from his face instantly. Ronald's admiration turned to pure terror. Images of himself wielding such a scythe became images of his guts spilling out at the end of this thing. Grell himself seemed mildly concerned.

"Calm down, you're not going to die." Mr. Spears said, reading Ronald's expression, "You don't really expect me to only arm you with that thing, do you?"

Ronald frowned. Now Mr. Spears was really confusing him. He could have sworn that for a moment Mr. Spears gave a smirk, but it was gone as he turned and walked to a door in the training room. Ronald and Grell followed, curious as to what he was doing. From his pockets, Will pulled out a set of keys and opened the door.

Ronald looked over his shoulder and almost fainted. Inside was a number of weapons of all different shapes and sizes. Blades jutted out from every side, shiny and new. None were of particularly high quality as they were all training scythes, but—It was beautiful.

"Pick one." Mr. Spears told him. Ronald would have been less surprised if he had told him he was crowned King of England. With slight hesitation, Ronald stepped inside the storage room, looking around like a kid in a candy shop. There were trimmers like Will's, saws like Grell's and Eric's, and some which he couldn't even guess what they were.

Then he saw one, the weirdest one of the lot. At first, he didn't think it had blades at all, but then he noticed the spinning edges on the bottom. It also had wheels, four of them, and a handle almost as tall as he was. He wasn't sure why, but it was really, really "Awesome."

"That one?" Grell said, eyeing the strange machine, "How on earth do you even fight with that?"

Mr. Spears adjusted his glasses. "It will probably take some experimentation. Why don't you try it out?" Carefully, Ronald tested the weight of the thing by switching it from hand to hand. He twisted one of his wrists to make the entire machine spin in the air. Then he saw a cord at the base and gave it an experimental tug.

All of a sudden, it roared to life, the blades at the end twirling menacingly. Ronald could not help but smile at the thing. Looking up at his superiors, he gave Mr. Spears a small nod, and walked out, ready to face Grell once again.

He started with just blocking Grell's attacks. Due to his new scythe's size it was much more capable of protecting him. He found small wrist movements were all that he needed to completely change the angle of the scythe, making it easier to block. Each time Grell's chainsaw came into contact with the handle, sparks flew off the metal.

There were some close calls, but so far, as long as he was playing defense, Grell couldn't touch him. Ronald smiled as he decided to switch to offense. As Grell aimed a powerful hit at him, he raised his scythe to intercept his head, and finally stop the red-head.

That was the plan, anyhow. He didn't expect that Grell would feint, duck under the scythe, and point the weapon so it was only a centimeter or two away from Ronald's neck.

Immediately, Ronald froze, not daring himself to move. Grell stopped the spinning blade, but it was still very, very close. A moment longer, and Grell stepped away, removing his saw. With a smile, he turned to face Mr. Spears.

Mr. Spears still wasn't smiling, but he gave Ronald a slight nod. "Better. From now on, you will train with this scythe."

Ronald tried to frown, but couldn't keep it on his face. "But sir—won't I have to use a training scythe for my exam?"

Will adjusted his glasses again, "It's a simple matter. I'll simply arrange for an exception."

Ronald smiled at his mentor. "Thank you Mr. Spears, sir."

"Awwww, Will~!" Grell twirled, giving up on trying to glomp his boss, "You're so sweet, giving our child a present!"

Ronald was surprised that he was so used to these sort of antics from Grell, he didn't even flinch at the fact Grell had just referred to him as his child, and even gave a small smile at the glare Will gave his colleague.

"Mr. Knox," Will said, "if you're done here, I would ask that you put that scythe away and accompany me to my office. We have a few things to discuss about your activities last night."


End file.
